


Asylumstuck

by Elmohipster



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - No Sgrub Session, Gen, Humanstuck, Morbid, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-08 17:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1950390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elmohipster/pseuds/Elmohipster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Egbert is a doctor of psychology, and although he is new to this field, he has great potential. The South Boston Unilateral Rehabilitation Bureau recognizes this and offers him a job. Their hopes are to see if he's got what it takes to treat several unique patients: a group of teens who believe that they are not from this world and that they are playing a game that defies the laws of reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John: Enter

A young man stands in the lobby of the South Boston Unilateral Rehabilitation Bureau. He has fair skin and jet black hair. In front of his two blue eyes are pair of square glasses that are held in place by a thick, black frame. As instructed, he has arrived in his best pair of light blue scrubs.

The man’s name is John Egbert, and today happens to be his twenty-fifth birthday. As a recent graduate from college with a master’s degree in psychology, he is excited to finally be able to put it to use.

 

                John approaches the front desk in the lobby and speaks to the receptionist.

                “Uh, hi. My name is John Egbert. I have an appointment with the administrator today at three.”

                The receptionist tapped at her keyboard for a moment and then with a smile she turned to John. “Oh, Mr. Egbert! Welcome. The administration office is at the end of the hall over there.” She pointed to a hallway behind him which was separated from the lobby by a wooden door. “They should be ready for you now. Just make sure that you knock before you enter, alright?”

                “Of course ma’am. Thank you very much.” He turned away and headed for the hallway. As he left the lobby which was painted with tan walls, a floor with short grey carpet, and plenty of windows, he walked into a sudden change of atmosphere. As he opened the door to the corridor, he was surprised with just how black and white the two places were.

The hallway had walls painted with white and the floors were no longer padded with carpet, but were instead paved with linoleum. The fluorescent white lights above were the only source of light, as there were no windows in the hall.

 "Wow." John said under his breath as he made his way towards the administration office door.

As he made his way, he looked at some of the plaques on the other doors. One said, "Security", and another said "Surveillance."  John hadn't really had any experience in a place like this, but he knew that procedures were strict and important to follow, for everyone's sake.

John finally reached the door at the end of the hall, and a silver name plate read, "Rose Lalonde, Ph.D."

*knock knock knock* John knocked somewhat quietly on the door, nervous to finally meet his superior.

"Come in!" A voice rang out from the other side of the door. It was a sweet voice, but a loud one.

John swung the door open cautiously.

Rose's office was quite a surprise to John. He had been used to seeing offices with lots of neutral colors, lots of browns, and a lot of open space. This was the normal office he saw when he was shadowing some therapists back when he was a freshman. They said that it helped set a calm, safe atmosphere in the room to help comfort patients who might be nervous.

This office was different, however. Much like the lobby, it had grey carpeting and a window on the left wall.  The shades were only slightly open, letting in just enough light to see. The walls were painted a dark purple, and they were covered in paintings of what looked like wizards. There was one particularly large portrait on the wall behind Rose of what seemed to be a mythical creature. Perhaps Cthulhu? John didn’t really know.

Ms. Lalonde was sitting in her desk, a book in hand. Much like John, she had a pale tone to her skin which looked even lighter next to her short blonde hair. Her eyes matched her hairband and the color of her lipstick, which were also purple. She had been wearing a purple suit jacket that matched her long skirt. If purple isn’t a professional color, it certainly is one here.

"Um, hi. My name is John. I'm here about the job."

"Oh! Yes! Mr. Egbert is it? Please, have a seat." Rose gestured with one hand to the seat in front of her desk, her eyes still glued to her novel.

John moved into the room, closing the door behind him. He sat in the chair he was offered, holding his hands in his lap as he waited for Rose to address him.

Rose continued reading for a moment before she grabbed a bookmark from her desk and saved her spot. She set the book to the side and looked up at John with a smile. "Well, Mr. Egbert, it is quite the pleasure to meet you." She extended out her hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well." John grasped her hand and shook it.

Rose pulled her hand back and held the both of them neatly together on her desk as she talked. "So, I'd like to begin by saying congratulations on acquiring your position here at the South Boston Unilateral Rehabilitation Bureau. I personally am looking forward to working with you, and I know that the rest of the staff is as well." She opened the filing cabinet behind her desk and fingered through some files. After a moment she pulled out a manila folder and placed it on the desk in front of her. She opened it up and took out a pen. "Okay, there are just a few things that we need to cover before we start our tour of the facility today. First of all, where are you from?"

"I'm from Washington, ma'am."

"Oh? Well what motivated you to come and pursue a job in Massachusetts?"

"Well, I visited the state several years ago and I liked it so much, I decided to move here. I finished my college career here and well, I only saw it fitting that I get a job here as well."

"Well, it is quite nice to hear that you enjoy this state. I personally love it here." She scribbled a few things onto the paper in the folder on her desk. When she finished she looked back at John. "Okay, Mr. Egbert, the next topic I am about to address is of upmost importance. It is critical that you listen to, and understand what I'm about to tell you. Understood?"

John nodded his head.

"Good. Now, it is quite imperative that I explain exactly what our facility's name means. We are a Unilateral institution, meaning that we operate by ourselves with no sister facilities or in conjunction with any hospitals. This is vital as it allows us to pursue the treatment and rehabilitation of our patients in whichever manner we see fit. This leads me to the next part of our name. You've probably noticed that we are not called an asylum, but instead a rehabilitation bureau. This is because our main priority here is to help rehabilitate individuals who are committed here." She set down her pen and stared directly at John. "Every patient has hope, Mr. Egbert. With enough work and proper treatment, any patient has the potential to operate in society on their own without dependence on a psychologist or therapist. Some are rehabilitated faster than others, but that doesn’t mean you should ever give up. Your main objective while working here will be to get as many patients as possible rehabilitated and out of our care. Is this understood?"

John nodded his head intently. "Yes, I understand."

Rose's face was greeted with a grin. "Fantastic. That covers the first part of your orientation. After getting a quick tour around the facility, your orientation will be completed with-" she glanced at the paper. ”Ah! Dr. Santiagos." She extended her hand once more.

"Alright, well thank you very much Ms. Lalonde" he said as he shook her hand once more.

"Please, it's Rose."

"Rose. Thank you, Rose."


	2. A Little Help?

John left the office and returned once again to the white hallway. He had to cover his eyes for a moment. The extreme white of the hallway had hurt his eyes after exiting the dark room. He made his way out into the lobby once more where he was greeted by a woman.

"Hi. Are you John?" the woman asked.

"Yes, I am."

"Well hello there John! My name is Jade." She raised her tanned arm for a handshake. Her green scrubs matched her eyes which were behind a pair of round wireframe glasses. Her long black hair fell over her shoulders and behind her back, and her smile was more vibrant than the sun. "I'm going to be showing you around the facility today. The first stop on our tour is going to be the Psychologist’s Locker Rooms. We provide changing rooms so if you wish to leave or arrive in something a little more casual, you may do so. Come, follow me.” She motioned with her hand for John to come with her as she led him into another hallway.

The hall was very similar to the one that led to Rose’s office, except in the middle of the hallway was a thick, metal door with a small glass window in it. The window had been lined with wires on the inside. The wires were meant to prevent anything from slipping through in the event that the glass itself had been broken, which was an unlikely event as the type of glass tended to be able to withstand a great amount of abuse. Also, on the right side of the door, just a few inches back, there was a larger window in the wall. It led into another room where a uniformed man with a gun stood, keeping an eye on the gateway. This must have been one of the security staff. It is essential in a place like this to ensure that security is tight, as many people who are admitted to an asylum like this one were either a danger to others, or themselves.

Jade walked up to the window and took a lanyard from around her neck. On the lanyard was a laminated photo I.D. card. The card had a picture of Jade, and in big letters said “JADE HARLEY, CLEARANCE LEVEL 2.”

The security guard pressed a button and leaned over towards a microphone in front of him. “And who is this with you Ms. Harley? He doesn’t seem to be a patient.” His voice echoed through a speaker which was placed just to the side of the window. His voice was calm, yet demanding.

“This is the new psychologist that Ms. Lalonde just hired.”

“Do you have any paperwork for me? You know that your clearance level doesn’t allow for you to bring any unauthorized personnel past this door.”

“You should have some paperwork in the cabinet. It’ll be labeled with the name John Egbert.”

The guard moved away from the microphone and turned towards the filing cabinet next to him. He opened up a drawer labeled “E-H”. The drawer was full of folders that were stuffed with papers, all organized neatly in manila folders.

The guard pulled out one folder and slapped it onto the counter. The folder read, “Egbert, John. Psychologist.” After a quick glance he put his finger back onto the button. “Alright Ms. Harley. I’ll buzz you two in. Make sure you have Mr. Egbert stop by records and have him get an Identification Card.”

“Alright, I will. Thank you.”

The speaker produced a loud buzzing sound, and as Jade turned the handle, the locks made an even louder metallic “CLICK” that resonated throughout the hall. When it was fully open, John could see that the door was several inches thick and seemed to have several locks on it to ensure it was impossible to get through without being let in.

“After you.” Jade said as she held the door open.

John walked through, and as the slam of the door rang out behind him, he was greeted by two more guards, both holding metal-detecting wands.

“Sir, please lift your arms into the air so that they are parallel to the ground.” One of the guards asked.

John did as asked and the guard proceeded to wave the device around his body. When the guard waved over John’s pocket, the device began to beep.

“Sir, can you please slowly empty your pocket for me?” The guard asked. The other guard had stopped checking Jade for a moment and had his hand placed on his weapon.

Slowly, John put his hand into his right pocket and took out its contents. He placed them on a rolling stand that the guard had pointed to as he removed his hand from his pants. On the table he placed his phone, his house key, and his father’s ring.

It had been twelve years since John’s father had died. When he was only thirteen years old, his father had been murdered. That day was all too memorable for John. He was in his living room watching television after a long day at school. There was a movie marathon on one of the channels and he just couldn’t resist hopping into the action with a bowl of popcorn. He heard a loud knock on the door. He muted the television and got up from the couch. It was cold in his house, so he had been wrapped in his favorite ghost sheets. When he opened the door he was surprised to see two men, both who seemed to be in their mid-forties.  One was a uniformed police officer. The other was in a black suit and looked like he may have been a detective. His brown hair and thick moustache was a contrast to the other man, who was clean shaven and bald. John was devastated when the officers told him the news. He collapsed in the doorway in tears as the officers tried to calm him. His father had been stabbed multiple times in the chest and left in a city street. The police were never able to find out who had murdered him.

The officers gave John a few of his father’s possessions he had when he was killed: his wallet, his hat, and his father’s ring. The wallet and the hat were tucked away in a safe location at John’s house, but he always took the ring with him wherever he went for good luck.

The guard waved him down one more time. “Alright, you’re good to go sir. Next time just let us know you have jewelry before we check you. You gave us a bit of a scare there.”

“Yes sir. I apologize.”

“You’re good to go as well Ms. Harley. Have a nice day.”

“Thank you. You too.” She replied.

The guard behind the glass window once again buzzed John and Jade through a steel door.

“Here is the main holding area.” Jade explained. “We hold Class A, B, and C patients in these rooms.”

Jade was referencing a long hallway that stood before her and John. There were numerous metal doors lining either side of the hall, with one barred window at the end of the hall. There were several breaks where the halls broke into different passages, most likely leading to other rooms. These breaks came at consistent intervals and were labeled with either the letters A, B, or C.

“Um, what do you mean “Class A, B, and C”?” John asked.

“Well, let me explain.” Jade replied as she led John through the halls and past the rooms. “Here at SBURB we categorize patients by their stability and safety. Patients are rated with a rank from letter A to letter E, A being safe, and E being extremely dangerous. A patient who is A Class typically shows no violent tendencies. So, patients in catatonic states, patients who have delusions, or those who simply need basic assistance to function. An E Class patient can show extremely violent behaviors, major violent tendencies, extreme detachment from reality, and multiple major cases of harm to themselves or others. I recommend if you ever work with an E Class patient, you request more guards to be present than policy calls for. Better safe than sorry."

"Do- Do you think they’re going to assign me to a class E patient anytime soon?" John asked nervously.

"Most likely not. You're new here and you're still not sure exactly how to deal with a lot of these patients. They'll probably start you off working with Class A or B individuals. They're simple enough to deal with and aren't violent. It'll be good practice for you."

Jade stopped in front of a wood door. The plaque on the wall next to it said "Psychologist Locker Room: Male"

"Well, here we are. The first stop of your tour: The locker rooms!" Jade said enthusiastically. "If you go in and look into locker 203, there should be a little surprise for you." She opened the door, "I'll be waiting for you outside."

"Thanks." John walked into the Locker Room and the door shut behind him.

The room was mostly empty, only one or two people were inside, changing into their street clothes as their work day had just ended. The walls were lined with green lockers tall and wide enough to fit an average wardrobe inside comfortably.

John began scanning the numbers on the front of the lockers. 3, 47, 105, 168, 203. "203! Here we are." He grabbed a note that was taped to the front of the locker that read:

_Mr. Egbert, we're glad to have you working here at SBURB and have decided to give you a little gift. We hope you enjoy working with us._

_-Rose_

John opened the locker and inside was just two items: A white jacket, and a bottle of scotch. John wasn't much of a drinker, but he did enjoy alcohol every now and then. During his senior year he tried his best to stay sober; most of his classes were difficult enough without him being drunk while he was studying. He grabbed the bottle and was once again greeted by a hand written note that said:

_Here's a little gift for you. I'm not sure if you're much of a drinker, but if you are, I hope you like scotch. If you ever need help getting through this bottle, you should give me a call._

_-Rose_

_P.S. DON'T DRINK ON THE CLOCK_

John flipped over the piece of paper and there was a number, and below it was Rose's name with a little heart next to it.

John chuckled. Typically, if he had gotten a gift from his employer, it was a stapler or a motivational poster to hang up on his wall, but he guessed that Rose could have really gotten him anything that she wanted.

At the age of 26, it is quite odd to see that Rose would be managing an entire facility such as this. Normally a person would have to take years to get to where she is. However, Rose's mother was the one who actually constructed this facility twenty years ago. When it first began, the Bureau received a lot of criticism, being privately owned and all. A lot of people believed that the facility wouldn't know what to do with patients and would end up leading to abuse. However, SBURB had proved to be more efficient, safer for patients, and had a better rate of rehabilitation than most asylums in the country.

Rose took over when she was 22. Her mother had died in a drunk driving accident one night coming home from a party she had attended. Rose knew of her mother's drinking problem and resented her for it, but when she had died, Rose was in tears. She really had cared for her mother, and she regrets not showing her while she was alive. Rose was left with a fortune from her mother, and she used it to live comfortably, and apparently buy her employees scotch.

John picked up the coat next. The note on the front said that it was his own personal lab coat and that he was to wear it every day as part of his uniform. He slipped it on and closed his locker.

When he made his way out of the lockers, he was met with an, "Ooooooooo."

Jade looked at him and said, "Well that coat looks fantastic on you John! I wish I could get to wear one of those, but they're only for psychologists." She adopted an annoyed look on her face, angry that she could only wear scrubs.

"Oh, you're not a psychologist? Then, do you mind me asking what exactly it is that you do around here?"

"Oh, not at all John. I'm a caretaker. I'm in charge of making sure that all of our patients get proper care and treatment here in the facility and I also try my best to make their experience here, well, enjoyable. As you might imagine, that can be a hard task at times, but it’s very rewarding when a patient who is normally very down, smiles.” Jade got a big grin. “Anyways, we need to get you to the records department. Let’s go.”


	3. For the Record...

                After a long and confusing trip through the Asylum, John and Jade had finally found their way to the records department. Jade was able to get there with ease, but John had to stay close by. John could only compare the Asylum to a labyrinth, full of twists and turns. He wasn’t sure if this was a strategic move to hinder the escape of loose patients, or if the architect who designed this place had a sick sense of humor. Either way, John was just hoping he didn’t get lost in this place. It was creepy enough walking through the place with Jade, he didn’t think he could handle doing it all by himself.

                During their walk, the two had passed by several rooms marked “Psychotherapy”. Jade explained that those rooms were used for the interviewing and treatment of patients. She said that John would be able to get more familiar with those rooms soon.

                “Well John, this is the records department. You’ll need to go in and have someone make an ID card for you. I’ll see you around.” Jade said and then walked away from John.

                “Alright. See you.” John walked into the records room and it was full of filing cabinets. Actually, John could only see filing cabinets in the room. “Um, hello?” John yelled out into the sea of cabinets, hoping that the records department wasn’t run by a bunch of inanimate metal containers.

                “Yo!” A man shouted out from somewhere in the room.

                John began navigating the room, walking in between narrow halls formed by the cabinets. The room itself was actually quite spacious. It’s walls were painted a bright red, but the fact that there was nothing covering them made the room look twice as large.

                Eventually, John stumbled upon a desk occupied by a young man wearing dark sunglasses. His blonde hair was thick, but short, creating a round shape. “Hey. I see you found your way to my desk.”

                “Yeah. It’s a little hard to find, you know. Have you ever thought of maybe moving it towards the front of the room?”

                “No way man. I put all these cabinets up like this on purpose. It’s like my own little filing cabinet fort up in here. Like the mother fucking Great Wall of China protecting all of these sensitive documents from these Mongolians. Always tryna destroy my wall and shit.”

                “…What?”

                “Never mind. My name’s Dave. You must be John.”

                “Yeah, that’s me. Um, one of the caretakers said that I needed to get an ID card made. Are you the one I’m supposed to talk to about that?”

                “Yeah. Totally dude. Come with me.” Dave stood up and sunk his hands into his jean pockets. His Converse made a deep thump as they hit the carpet of the Records Room. He led John into another room. It was dark and the walls were made of concrete and unpainted. Dave flipped on the light which exposed a camera and some lights sitting in front of a light blue backdrop which was hanging from the ceiling.

                “Go stand on the black ‘X’ so we can get your picture taken.” Dave said as he gestured to some tape on the ground.

                John walked over and looked forward. Dave had turned off the lights in the room again and turned on one large white light that was pointed directly at John’s face. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did he could see Dave looking through the camera for a moment, taking a look at John, looking back. John giggled at Dave who was beginning to look more and more ridiculous each time his head popped up above the camera like a prairie dog.

                “Alright, the light looks good, and I think I found a good angle for you. Sadly we can only use a photo of you looking forward, so we’re just going to do that instead. Look at the puppet for me.” Dave held a slightly frightening puppet up next to the camera. It wore white gloves, a blue shirt that said “Cal”, a golden chain, a bowtie, and a backwards, grey ball cap. His rosy cheeks were complimented by his large red lips.

                John looked at the puppet and smiled.

                *POP* Some flash bulbs went off that blinded John for a moment. Dave’s calm, solid face was broken for a moment with a slight smile, only to morph back into it’s normal, emotionless state. “The picture looks good yo. I’m gonna go get this printed and laminated. Just wait in here.”

                Dave left the room staring at the picture as John grabbed a seat by the puppet Dave had held up for his picture. It was a strange little puppet, and its dead, glass eyes gave it an eerie essence. John began studying “Cal” intently, feeling oddly attracted to the doll as if it had some sort of force behind it that beckoned to John.

                The room became uncomfortably silent and for a second John swore that the puppet had moved a little. Just as John’s heart began to race, Dave burst through the door.

                “Bam. Photo ID’s all done bro.” He tossed a lanyard at John.

 As John began to look at his new card, Dave slapped a folder into his chest.

“That’s your first assignment John. A Class B individual by the name of Travis Nystrom. He’s part of a group of individuals which exhibit some, well, ‘peculiar traits’.” He made air quotes with his hands while saying the last two words. “Which basically means that they’re a special kind of crazy. Anyways, Rose wants to start you off with some simpler cases to get your feet in the psycho water. You’re just really supposed to see if you can give this kid a diagnosis. He already has one but Rose wants to see how close your diagnosis is to the one we have on record. We didn’t make it too easy for you, but it isn’t impossible either. There’s some background info in there that can give you just a little bit of an idea what you’re working with.”

“Well, alright. Thanks. And thanks for the ID too.”

“Yeah no problem. Come on, I need to show you how to write a log.”

 

\- - -

 

_Date: 4/13/2013_

_Dear Journal,_

_Today was my first day at work and I’m pretty excited to get to working with patients. I began reading up on this Travis kid and he seems like quite an individual. He’s only a Class B patient, but I’m still a little scared that he’ll give me trouble._

_The records guy, Dave, made me an ID card today and showed me how to fill out my reports from interviewing patients. He gave me a tape recorder and a camera too for recording purposes. He says it’s mandatory to record all sessions in case someone is hurt during them, a security protocol, he explained._

_I just hope I never have to talk with a Class E patient. Jade was telling me that they’re pretty dangerous people to be around. She had never been with one herself, but she’d heard stories from the security staff of doctors having to be hospitalized before after working with patients of that caliber. “But that was when the facility was first beginning” She said. “Nothing like that happens now.”_

_I just hope she’s right._

_I visited dad’s grave after work today. I can’t believe it’s already been twelve years…_

_If he were alive today, I’m sure I would have gotten a card in the mail later this week. It’d have a harlequin doll on the front and a message on the inside. It’d say something like, “Son, you are a doctor now. I am so, so proud of you. Love, dad.”_

_I miss you dad._


	4. First Encounters

_S.B.U.R.B. Patient Log #011246 CLEARANCE LEVEL: 3_

**_ IF YOU ARE NOT OF THE APPROPRIATE CLEARANCE LEVEL OR HIGHER CEASE READING IMMEDIATELY _ **

_Patient: Nystrom, Travis_

_Gender: Male_

_Age: 16_

_Background: Travis Nystrom was admitted into SBURB on January 1 st of 2012 by local authorities in conjunction with his parents. Travis’s parents were concerned about their child early on in his teen years as they noticed he had suddenly lost interest in the things that he normally enjoyed. Travis had also expressed a loss of self-esteem. However, they failed to seek professional help for him. At school, it was suspected that other students were bullying Travis, and it was also brought to the attention of the authorities by the school’s principal that Travis had arrived to school with marks on his body, such as bruises and abrasions. Travis was also found to have a pair of wings carved into his back, although those injuries seem to be self-inflicted after being more closely observed. An investigation was launched but it was never concluded whether or not Travis was being abused at home. Travis was arrested at the age of 15 for arson, and it was later discovered after a police interview with Travis that he had, supposedly for several years, been abducting, torturing, and killing small animals. Travis had built a shed somewhere in a forest near his home. When searched by police, there were several dog and cat skeletons, some of the skulls were hung up on the walls of the shed, several mutilated bodies of cats and raccoons, multiple tools such as knives, a bone saw, and a circular saw, all of which were stained in blood. Also found in the shed was the body of a small calf with butterfly wings stapled to its back. Where Travis found the animal is unknown. It is also unknown why he had stapled wings to its back. Several cans of gas and a hefty supply of matches were stored in the back of the shed along with several piles of ashes. They are theorized to be burnt animal remains, but this theory has not yet been confirmed. Travis was sentenced to 6 months in prison for arson, and afterwards was admitted to SBURB._

 

                  John sat inside one of the many psychotherapy rooms at the bureau. Its faint, yellow walls were lit up nicely by the florescent light above his head. On the other side of the white table his files were resting on was a metal chair. It was bolted to the floor and there metal loops bolted into the floor as well on either side of the chair.

                  John turned around and waved at the mirror directly to his rear. The mirror was two-way and on the other side were Rose and a security guard who would be watching over John’s session today.

                  “Are you ready John?” Rose’s voice rang out from the speaker in the roof.

                  “Yeah, I think I’m ready.” John replied.

                  “Alright, we’ll send Travis in.”

                  The door across from John opened up, and two guards led a teenager into the room. They sat him down in the chair and then took a place on the wall, where they began watching over the two.

                  “Well, I believe we can begin now.” John leaned over and turned on the camera he had set up in the room. It was pointed directly at Travis to capture his behaviors for later analysis. He then hit the record button on his tape recorder. “Hello Travis, how are you today?”

                  "Uh, hi doctor. I'm doing alright today. Yourself?" Travis replied. His voice wasn't quiet, but it sounded a weak. Although he seemed nervous, he had a big smile on his face that seemed to be genuine.

                  "I'm doing just fine, thank you for asking." John wasn't really in the mood for making small talk, he was much too excited, but he knew that if he ever wanted Travis to open up to him, he'd have to break the ice. "So, why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself, Travis? What are some things you like to do?"

                  "Uh well, I can't really do much in here, you know? But, uh, when I wasn't in here, I liked to play card games and, uh, I LARPed every now and then."

                  John began making a list of everything Travis told him. He liked animals, jousting, his favorite movie was Peter Pan, just small things that he liked.

                 "So Travis, now that we know each other a little better, I'd like to talk to you about why you're here. Would you be okay with that?"

                 "Uh, yeah... I guess." Travis rubbed the back of his head as he replied.

                 "Alright, well, I'd like to begin with your family. How were your parents, Travis?"

                 "They were, uh," Travis looked at the floor, "They were great, you know? They were really caring and they, uh, yeah." His smile had faded from his face and it only came back after a few moments of silence, but it looked forced.

                 "Are you sure, Travis? You do know that you're safe here and that I'm here to help you, correct?"

                 "Yeah..."

                 "Okay, well I just wanted to make sure you understood that." They sat in silence for a moment. "So now, let's move on. So you-"

                 "Actually, uh, Doc. I've, got something else to say about my parents." Travis cut John off in the middle of his sentence. "Sometimes, my dad would, uh, well he would get really angry sometimes. Sometimes it was because of work. Maybe he had a, uh, bad day. Sometimes my mom would make him upset because she would do something like, uh, burn dinner or knock something over on accident. He would yell at us and, uh, he would hit us a lot too." Travis looked at his arm. "I remember that one time, uh, my dad came home and he began slapping my mom... I just got, so angry that I hit him back. He, uh, stopped hitting her and looked at me. He was pretty mad. Well, he threw my mom against the wall and started heading towards me. I don't think I had ever heard him that loud or seen him that angry before; it was pretty scary. Anyways, he had gotten a hold of me and he ended up breaking my arm. He said that if I, uh, ever hit him again, he'd break my neck." Travis looked up, he had a tear running down his cheek and his eyes were filling up with more. "I had to tell everyone that I'd fallen down the staircase so that my dad wouldn’t get in trouble. A lot of the kids started making fun of me. Well, more than usual, at least. A lot of kids made fun of me because of some of the things I liked. I guess that liking Peter Pan so much in high school is, uh, kinda lame." He giggled a little, and then his face turned back into a frown.

                "And Travis, how did your father and the kids at school make you feel when they treated you this way?" John asked, his voice was trembling slightly. John had learned about abuse during his studies and he understood that it was something he would have to deal with in his career, but it was still breaking him up on the inside. Travis seemed like a nice enough kid, like a normal teenager. He knew he didn't deserve that sort of treatment.

                "You know, uh, John. It made me feel, pretty inadequate, to be honest. I felt sad a lot of the time because I thought that nobody cared about me. I used to go out into the woods a lot to be, uh, by myself. It was nice getting away. I'd sit there and I would get, uh, lost in my own mind."

                "And you would go there alone?" John asked as he scribbled on his notepad.

                "Uh, yeah. I used to go alone."

                "Used to?"

                "Yeah. Uh, one day, after school, I had gone down to my usual spot, and I, uh, found a little raccoon just sort of hanging around. So, I went up to him and the little guy just crawled onto my shoulder. I, uh, guess I just sort of had a natural connection with animals, like I could talk to them, and they could understand me."

                "So, did you keep this raccoon as a sort of, pet, or?"

                "Uh, yeah. For a little while I kept him around, and then..." Travis sat their for a moment in silence.

                "And... and then what, Travis?"

                Travis set his gaze towards John; his eyes were tearing up again. "You know John, those animals were some of the best people that I ever knew. They didn't, uh, judge me. They never made fun of me. They loved me John." The tears had begun flowing now and Travis's body began to shake. "Those animals, they didn't deserve to feel the pain and the shit that this world is full of." His voice was swelling with anger and his volume was rising. "I just couldn't stand the thought that these poor creatures would ever have to endure anything close to what I had to live through." Travis made eye contact with John, and it felt as if he was staring into his soul. "So I relieved them of their pain, and their suffering, and of all the ill will that they would have had to go through. I, killed them, John. And it was the, uh, hardest thing that I've ever had to do, because I loved them. I loved ALL of them, but I had to do it. It's what was best for them." His head slowly made contact with the table, and he placed his hands on the back of his head. He sobbed, and his voice became quiet and shaky. "It's what was best for them..."

                 John's face had become full of sadness as he watched and listened to Travis. Not knowing what to do, he turned towards the mirror, hoping Rose would give him some sort of direction.

                Rose saw that at this point, Travis most likely wouldn't be talking very much, and besides, John had most likely gotten a good amount of information by now. She put her finger on the microphone that sat on the counter in front of her. She leaned in and said, "John, you can send Travis back now."

                John looked at the two guards on the wall and nodded, signaling that he indeed wanted them to take Travis back.

                "Thank you for your time, Travis." John said with much sadness as Travis was escorted away. He took off his glasses and held his head in his hands, his fingers becoming moist as they rested in front of his eyes.

 

\- - -


	5. A Broken Spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Uses defibrillator on this story* LIVE DAMN YOU! LIVE! *Story regains a pulse* YES!
> 
> I am so sorry that this story had such a long hiatus. I know that there were some of you who were really wanting to see how all of this played out, and I promise I'll do my best to keep this thing alive. Soooooooooooooo~ here's a new chapter! Hopefully with more on the way soon!  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Knock knock knock* Rose repeatedly tapped on the door to John’s office, stopping every once in a while in hopes of hearing a response.  


“John? Are you alright in there? You’ve been in there for quite a while and, well. Your silence worries me, is all.” Rose’s voice was lightly coated in worry. In honesty, she was fairly nervous, but she could usually control her outward expression.  


She pressed her ear to the door and heard John moving around and shuffling some papers. It worried Rose. The way John was acting. She had seen plenty of new faces get broken up by the stories they heard. It was understandable and, well, quite common. Many of the people who are admitted have sad or even disturbing stories and many of the doctors have trouble keeping their emotions in line, especially when they first start in this field. It really is a difficult task hearing about all the trouble that these poor people go through and not feeling a little sad, angry, and sometimes disgusted with the world. However, John worried Rose much more than anyone else really had before. She wasn’t sure why, but-  


“Ms. Lalonde. You may, come inside now if you wish.” John’s voice rang out from behind the door. His voice was, oddly calm and stoic.  


Rose slowly pushed down the handle on John’s door, emitting a loud *click* that echoed through the mostly silent room.  


“Ms. Lalonde. You may have a seat, if you would like one.” John stuck his hand out in front of him and motioned towards the chair in front of his desk. He never looked away from the papers on his desk.  


“Thank you.” Rose stood awkwardly at the door for a moment, then closed the door behind her. She made her way to the chair, unable to think of anything good to say to break the tension in the room. She felt as if she could reach out and grab a piece of air because of how thick it seemed. Seating herself at the very edge of the chair, Rose looked at John with soft eyes, hoping that he would say something to her. Hoping that he would just, cut the act and talk to her about what happened beck in the interview room. She knew well enough that he was not okay, she was experienced enough to know that without even having to think about it. For some reason, John was trying to lie to himself. Trying to make himself think that he wasn’t as emotionally bothered as he really was.  


“Did you need something?” John asked as he opened a drawer on his desk, took a file out, and placed another one inside.  


“Um, yes well.” Rose was caught off guard by John’s question since she had been lost in thought and she realized that she hadn’t thought of a very tactful way to bring up John’s reaction after interviewing Travis. “You, did really great today. Travis doesn’t typically open up to people that easily. It seems to take a few interviews for anyone to really get him to share, but, you seemed to handle it well. He seemed to like you. Honestly he talked to you as if he knew you already.” She let out a small chuckle, and John put on a very minute smile.  


“Well thank you.” His smile faded ad he stared at Rose for a moment. He then returned to fiddling with his papers.  


The room sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment.  


After a few seconds, John looked up and started at Rose with a blank expression.  


“Is there, anything else?” His voice was slightly shaky.  


“You know, John.” Rose leaned forward in her seat and placed her elbows on her legs. “It’s okay, that you did what you did today. Travis’s story is well, it’s one that a lot of people typically don’t take easily. I mean, I’ve had people walk out in the middle of an interview with him because they were having trouble keeping things together. It’s honestly difficult that someone as sweet and innocent seeming as Travis could have done what he did. It’s-“  


“Rose I’m going to be honest with you,” John removed his glasses and folded them up. Placing them to the side of his desk he said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His face was calm yet it still gave off a very cocky attitude.  


Rose sighed. “John can you please just work with me here? I’m trying to help you.”  


“Work with me? Rose what the fuck are you talking about?” John’s face was slowly adapting an angry expression. “I mean, I really don’t think there’s anything you can help me with unless of course you have a fucking pair of balls you could give me!”  


Rose was uncomfortable. The conversation took, well John asking for a pair of balls was unexpected to say the least and it threw Rose off.  


John’s gaze remained on Rose as he made a hand gesture that said, “Well?”  


“John what do you mean?”  


“What do I mean? Rose I mean can you fucking find me a pair of balls because apparently I don’t have any.” John placed his hands on his desk and was leaning forward. “Because, you know, I can’t even talk to a patient without crying like a fucking bitch.”  


“John! There’s no need for that kind of language.”  


“No, Rose, there fucking is, okay? I’m supposed to be a fucking psychologist. My job is to listen to people’s problems and help them out, no matter how fucked up they are or how shitty the things they did are. I’m supposed to be like, a god damned rock for them to latch on to while they try and scrape together what’s left of their sanity. How the HELL am I supposed to do that if I can’t even hear one shitty sob story without having to take a fucking time out in my office because I’m a little bitch who just fucking cries on the job? How the FUCK am I supposed to help people if I can barely talk to them, Rose? Huh? Can you fucking tell me that?!”  


“JOHN!” Rose stood up as she screamed at John, who by now looked quite flustered.  


Silence set upon the room, and John seemed to realize just how aggressive he had been. He cleared his throat, scratch the back of his head, and forced out an awkward, “I’m sorry.” He then took a seat, looking dejected and embarrassed.  


“Now John I know that maybe this whole ordeal was a little embarrassing for you but you can’t just go around throwing a tantrum like you’re some kind of a child. So you cried during an interview. Who cares? Congratu-fucking-lations! You’ve got emotions! You’re a human being!”  


John looked ashamed.  


“You know what is ridiculous, though? Getting angry at yourself for something small when you did something fantastic. Travis is a very closed person, and you got him to open up to you during his first interview with you. That’s amazing! John. I know you don’t necessarily think so right now but I can tell that you’re going to get a lot done here, okay? You’re very good for someone with your low level of experience and I think you just need to gain some confidence in yourself.”  


After a beat, John picked his head up, but avoided making eye contact with Rose.  


“I- I guess you’re right, Rose.”  


“I am right.” Rose gave John a little smile. “Now come on. I think you’ve earned yourself a reward.”  


“A reward?”  


“Yes! A reward! For a job well done.”  


“…I guess.”  


“Well come on then. I hope you like Chinese.”


	6. Drinks with the boss

Dear Journal,   
I’m going to keep this entry “off the record” since I’m not really sure if it’s something I should be writing about, or if I should be sharing it so, this is staying in the personal journal.

Rose really helped me out tonight. It was a, uh, rough day at work, to say the least, but there’s just something about her that really makes me just feel, well like my problems are gone, at least for a moment. It’s really hard to explain exactly what it is about her. Maybe her voice? I mean, it’s very soothing, or maybe it’s that sly look she always has on her face. Maybe her eyes? They’re just, a very deep purple and it’s almost mystifying. I’ve honestly never seen a pair of eyes that just, that, beautiful. 

Uh, that, okay well to refrain from this sounding any weirder, my first patient was, well he was actually just, depressing. He was so cheery and happy, and his smile just melted your heart but, he just, he did a lot of things that you would never expect someone that, that full of joy and emanating the innocence of youth to even think about. When I was talking to him, I just realized that this world isn’t really as black and white as I really thought it was. I mean, I already knew that there were a lot of grey areas, but I usually thought that I could tell the difference between an evil person and somebody who was a good person but. I realized that maybe I can’t and that maybe this world is full of more evil than I had originally thought, because I now know that I can’t just, pick up on this sort of thing. There could be a tremendous amount of evil around me just masked by happy faces and soothing voices and…

Maybe he isn’t a bad person, he just did bad things but, doesn’t that make someone a bad person? I’m probably thinking too much about this. Tonight was a good night, and I probably shouldn’t ruin it with all of this morbid thinking. Rose took me to a bar in town, and we had a lot of fun. Usually, I’d be really against having a night out with my boss- er like- a friend’s night out. Not like, it wasn’t a date or anything I was just- we were hanging out. As bros. Dr. Bros. Anyway, we got some Chinese food, had a couple of drinks, and got to know each other a little better. Rose took the liberty of kicking my ass in pool. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody that good at pool that didn’t play professionally. Pft, I’m glad I didn’t place a bet on that game like I was planning to. I ended up walking her to her apartment, which was only a few blocks away. She was pretty drunk, and it probably wouldn’t have been the best idea if I had told her to walk home by herself. Her apartment was on the second floor, but she still made us take the elevator. I said that the stairs would probably be quicker, but she insisted that we use the elevator for some reason. Hehe, maybe she’s afraid of stairs or something, like a fear of flat surfaces that incrementally increase in height. When we ended up getting to her door, she spilled everything out of her bag while looking for her keys, so I helped her pick it all up. She had some, er, “interesting” items in there. When we got everything together and she got her door open, she let out a big, “Aaaaawe, thank you Jooooohn,” with a very big smile. She almost tipped over, so I had to put my arms around her to catch her. When I stood us both upright, she gave me a hug and said something that I couldn’t really understand too well with how much her words were slurring. She let out a loud laugh afterwards, so I laughed with her. I don’t have any clue what she said but I just decided it would be best to play along. After she went inside, I called a cab and got a ride back over here. I had only had a few drinks, but I thought it would be best to not take any chances. I mean, it really doesn’t take a lot to change a person’s life, and a drunk driver can uh… well, they can change things pretty easily. 

I’m really glad that I got to spend this night with Rose. She really turned things around for me today, and I felt like she had fun as well. I don’t know, maybe we could do it again sometime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, midterms are coming up and they've definitely been keeping me busy, but I flushed out a little something for you guys since there was a long pause in between. I'm glad I had that break though. I think my writing has at least improved a little bit, and I got some great new ideas for the story, so I guess it all works out!


End file.
